A Case to Remember
by NicetyL
Summary: [DISCONTINUED] Nat has consented to work on another horrible case. Obviously, without my help, he'd be hopeless, so here I am, though I'd rather watch him suffer from afar. -Love, Bartimaeus.
1. Plan

This fandom really needs to expand.

I mean, how can this awesome series _**not**_ have a gazillion fans?

I'm still glad there are so many amazing authors on this site, though :D

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing.

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The sky roiled with clouds carrying unshed raindrops. A cutting wind howled through the busy streets, upending baskets of unsold goods and carrying off the occasional hat. The air was filled with the insistent honking of cars starting to populate the streets as the sun showed its first signs over the horizon.

I scratched at my ear, annoyed. Why was this even _happening_ to me? Why did this _always_ happen to me?

The cold rooftops of London is no place for a djinni of my level to be hiding out on. But here I was, hating everything little thing about this wretched situation. I pressed myself lower onto the slick tiles of the apartment I was hiding on, as the curtains of the house across the street flicked to the side.

A small girl peered around from within, almost shyly, with her huge doe eyes. She seemed to have just woken up, since her pretty brown hair was mussed and she still wore nothing but a nightgown. She stretched her pale, vulnerable wrists above her head, yawning as she did so.

I might've bought the show she was putting on if she didn't transformed into a hideous beast on the fifth plane. This foliot was doing a shoddy job as an impersonator. I'd been watching this girl for a week, and she hadn't once opened her window to enjoy the morning view of London's streets until today (1). In fact, I wasn't sure the girl even knew she _had_ a window. The Lily Hollow I'd come to know had a very unhealthy attraction to video games. She spent most of her time glued to her computer, refusing to leave its side- even giving up food, and, more importantly as far as someone who had to follow her around 24/7 was concerned, baths.

(1) Which wasn't her fault, of course. There's nothing to admire in a filthy street full of disgusting little humans scurrying around doing absolutely nothing important.

I groaned as I watched the foliot draw the curtains shut again. Natty boy had been right. I could just imagine that stupid smirk of his at the news.

I quickly used my little claws to climb higher onto the apartment's roof before dropping my guise as a cat for that of a pigeon. I took to the air, already tired of the charge I knew would be next. Obviously, Nat had to show off his amazing skills as the Minister of Security by tackling all the worst cases by himself. And right now, that meant finding out who was replacing the children of London's wealthiest and most powerful humans with demons.

I landed on his windowsill and peered in. He was busy yelling at that poor assistant of his (2) , but I could tell it was more out of impatience than out of any really anger. I grinned maliciously. He must be growing antsy, since he'd promised his beloved PM that he'd have this case solved by the end of this month. I was sorely tempted to not tell him anything for another week so I could see him suffer a bit more, but his charge had bound me to tell him about anything unusual concerning Lily Hollow as soon as I learned of it (3).

(2) She must be quite desperate to put up with such a young and greasy little kid for a boss. I almost felt sorry for her, but then again, I liked how her incompetence grated on little Nat's nerves. The more miserable he was, the more bearable my stay on this world became.

(3) When I'd taken this as cue to go into detail about Lily's brushing habits (or the lack thereof), I'd been threatened with the Stipples. Magicians, I tell you. So fickle.

I pecked at his window until I got his attention. When he looked over at me, he sighed with such tiredness that you'd think he'd just seen the cause of all of his problems. Needless to say, it made my day instantly brighter. He ran a hand through that greasy mop that was his hair, seemingly trying to compose himself before he had to talk to me. Then he crossed his office and flicked the latch of his window off. I took my familiar guise of Ptolemy and pushed the glass pane open before hopping into his office.

"Hey John!" I exclaimed cheerfully. "How has your day been?"

Nathaniel stared at me with deadpan eyes before rubbing a tired hand across his face in frustration. "You didn't just come here to annoy me, did you?"

I grinned and leaned back against his window, watching his assistant take advantage of the situation to scurry out the door. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

He looked at me with some sort of hope then, and my cheeriness died away. Oh, how I hated delivering magicians good news. "Sometime during the night, Lily Hollow was switched with a foliot taking her appearance as its guise."

He stared at me for a heartbeat, before he slowly grinned. I could already tell that his mind was miles away, thinking up his follow-up plan by the time he rushed to his desk and shoved aside some papers. "I _knew_ it! I knew it! That was the connection between them, after all!"

I crossed my arms, watching him hurry around his room with a renewed sense of energy. "Send me back, Nathaniel."

He was so out of it that he didn't even flinch at hearing his birth name spoken aloud so casually. "Hm?"

I sighed and sat down on his swivel chair, giving up for today. I'd badgered him to send me back to the OtherPlace too many times, and I was starting to see that there was no point in pursuing the matter. I spun myself around and around on his chair, lost in thoughts of the Other Place's soothing embrace. I'd been working for this twerp for a year now, and I wanted out. Staying in this world for so long was doing nothing good for my essence. But he refused to let me go, and I was starting to think the only way home would be to kill him.

It would be a shame, of course, to kill off someone who occasionally reminded me of Ptolemy, but it would have to be done. Magicians were all the same in the end. My world stopped spinning around suddenly, and I realized the little idiot I wanted to kill was standing in front of me, a faraway look on his face as he held the chair back from making another turn.

"Quit your stupid daydreaming, Bartimaeus. I have a new charge for you."

I groaned. Why couldn't I kill him _now?_

"I charge you to go help Marinda in the basement. She's cleaning out the place so I can use it as a second library."

"Die."

Nathaniel finally focused on me and smiled grimly. "If it were that easy to kill me off, we wouldn't be here right now."

"We're here right now because I saved you too many times to count."

He turned away, obviously not listening anymore. "I command you to go, djinni."

I felt the painful jerk on my essence pulling me away, and stood up. "One day, you're going to wish you'd dismissed me earlier."

Nathaniel waved a hand over his shoulder, the only sign he'd heard what I'd said. I was _so_ going to kill this guy later. _No_ one treated Bartimaeus of Uruk this way and lived! (4) I stalked out of the room and banged the door shut behind me, hoping a few of his creepy paintings of that Whitewell woman fell off from the resulting vibrations.

(4) Well, except that marid I'd met a couple of centuries ago, and that one afrit- you know what? I think that this is besides the point.

He'd been treating me this way ever since he'd summoned me. Never actually seeing me, but always having one mundane errand or another to charge me with. The ungrateful brat would meet his end soon, and I would see to it that it would be by my hands (5).

(5) Or paws. Or claws, talons, tentacles, etcetera, etcetera. It really depended on which guise I had on at the moment.

Miranda was very displeased to see me. The servants in Nathaniel's house didn't know that I was a demon- it would be very unusual for a magician to let his or her demons reveal themselves to commoners. So I just looked like an Egyptian boy that happened to be working for the famous John Mandrake to them.

"Bartimaeus," Miranda said. "If you're here to help, would you stop lounging on the couch?"

I looked up at her, wondering how she'd feel if I suddenly turned into a wolf and mauled her. "I _am_ helping. You told me that I'd be the most help by staying out of the way."

She rolled her eyes at me. Rolled her eyes at _me_ , I tell you!

"That was last time. You were cooking up something grotesque- "

"Just because people around here are unused to eating goat liver, doesn't mean it's grotesque!"

"- for breakfast. Come on, boy, get up."

I wanted to blast her to bits. I stood up anyway- quite sulkily, which made Marinda smirk and call me "Cute," (6) and did as my idiotic master upstairs had commanded. When we left the basement, Marinda swung an arm around my shoulder.

(6) ... and which made _me_ want to re-think my decision to hold back on mauling her.

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"I think it was pretty hard, considering you dropped a cabinet on my foot."

Marinda laughed. "At least your foot's still fine. Anyway, me and the others are wondering if you'd join us for dinner tonight? We're all meeting up to eat at Hail's. I know you never show up, but some of them _do_ like you, you know."

Humans never fail to amuse me. I was tempted to say yes, just to show up at the dinner and change their opinions on me radically by doing something that'll leave Nathaniel to cover up the deaths of all of his servants, but I shrugged her arm off instead.

"No."

"Come _on!_ "

"No way."

"Look, you need to make friends. A boy your age shouldn't be so shy!"

What I was hearing was so ridiculous that I really didn't know what to say. I stared at her, completely at a loss for words, and she seemed to take that as an affirmative. She grabbed my arm with a stupid smile and led me, dumbfounded, up the stairs and to the front door.

"Hold on, I-" I started, finally finding my voice after processing the full absurdity of the situation.

"Oh, you got him to come! _Finally!_ " Another one said- he goes by the name of Fred, I think- before ruffling my hair. "I was starting to think you were antisocial."

Just as I got a detonation started in my hand, I heard my name: " _Bartimaeus_."

I spun around, indignant and completely beyond reason as I heard the annoying twerp's voice. He was standing on the stairs, looking all high-and-mighty with his greasy hair and supposedly-fashionable long coat.

"Mr. Mandrake, sir," the other servants said, composing themselves. "We were just about to leave."

"Bartimaeus, stay. The rest of you, I bid you goodnight. I will see you all tomorrow."

I stood back, barely holding in my temper as I watched the others leave. 'Bartimaeus, stay'? What was I, a _pet?_

I spun on him as soon as the last one of them left. " _You_. Just you wait, magician. I _will_ destroy you one day. Do you know what I had to put up with just now?"

I finally got a good look of the stupid brat's face, and found him _smiling, looking like he was holding back laughter._ Then he _did_ laugh, and that was pretty much the last straw.

"You _dare_ laugh at this, you insolent little magician? If I don't burn your precious house to the ground right now, I- "

"Bartimaeus, I have a new charge for you," he cut in, suddenly looking much more somber. "I charge you to impersonate Neville Rolland. We're going to catch these kidnappers in the act."

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 **...Okay, honestly, I told myself that I'd at least have to make the first chapter stay focused and serious... but, come on, it's Bartimaeus!**

 **... and also, my writing style is just random enough to surprise me, too.**

 **Thanks for reading this far!**


	2. Kidnapping

**Hi, everyone reading this!**

 **Here's another chapter for you guys to read!**

 **(I'm really sorry, I don't usually do these intro- things, so I'm lost on what to write on here. But it's usually fun adding a little note to readers at the beginning of each chapter, so.)**

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing but my ideas :)

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The old man wrung his hands worriedly as he repeated his question for the fifth time that evening. "Are you _sure?_ "

Nathaniel- or, should I say, _John Mandrak_ e- nodded at the man, looking the slightest bit peeved. Good. If he wasn't as irritated as I was, there'd be no fun in this.

"Of course, sir. But remember, this is just a precaution. For the next couple of weeks, I want you to pretend that this boy is your son. I will make sure Neville Rolland will be safely away in Paris, having a wonderful time."

The man wiped his brow and looked at me. "Of course. It _does_ help that he looks so much like my Neville."

We were sitting at Archey Rolland's dining table, discussing a possible plot to kidnap his son over tea. The man wasn't taking the news very well, as you can imagine. I've never understood the relationship between parent and child very well myself, having no mother or father except maybe the Other Place. But I couldn't see why the man cared about the little brat hiding behind his leg, his nose dripping with snot. The only human who could look so disgusting and still be likable was Ptolemy (1), and the boy was long gone.

(1) Not that Ptolemy wasn't a looker, mind you. There were too many girls to count that wooed for his hand, but after they realized that he'd never love them as much as he did his books, they backed off real quick. Well, they never said that to his face, of course. They all told him that they felt "an evil presence nearby" whenever they were with him. I wonder what they meant.

And so, after a week of preparation, I found myself going to the movies with the same Archey Rolland and his lovely wife, trying to look like an adorable son and not like a djinni who wanted to rip them apart.

"I hope you like watching the Puppy Squad, boy. Neville- I mean, _you_ \- have been looking forward to their new movie for a year now," Rolland said, glancing worriedly at his wife, who knew nothing about her son having been replaced by a look-alike (2).

(2) It's almost sad that I could fool her so easily. Showed how brainless humans are in general. I can't _believe_ your race has imprisoned us to do your wishes for so long.

The woman laughed and patted my head. "Of course he likes watching this movie! Archie, you should've seen him when I showed him the tickets! He was squealing with joy!"

No, I'd been screaming in disgust that I had to pretend to like some ugly cartoon dog. But that worked, too.

"Daddy, daddy, I want popcorn!" I demanded, tugging on Rolland's sleeves like I'd seen his son do every now and then. The man looked taken aback, then suddenly smiled warmly at me.

"Of course, son. Stay with Mommy now, and wait for me until I get back."

I internally gagged. This man was too easy. All I had to do was act childish now and then, and he seemed to really believe I was his son.

"Neville? Is there something wrong?" Mrs. Rolland asked me, bending down to look at my eyes. I quickly smiled.

"No, mommy."

I'd done weirder charges in my past (2), but this still stung my pride quite a bit. _Especially_ since I could feel Natty boy watching with his scrying glass. He hadn't found the need to monitor me on my charges before. The boy was probably rolling around on his bed, laughing his head off. I glanced at Natty's little imp with threatening eyes, making it scrunch its baby face in anger and let out a string of curse words (3).

(2) You won't _believe_ how many crazy magicians there are out there. I'd once been summon by a man who'd charged me to lick his wife's shoes. I don't even _want_ to know what that had been all about.

(3) That imp and I were going to have a very pleasant chat later on. A very _long_ , and pleasant chat.

"Here's your popcorn, sweetie," Rolland cooed, handing me the bag of buttery gunk. I immediately stuck my hand in and grabbed a handful of the stuff before shoving it all in my mouth.

"Slowly, Neville! Don't choke on them, now," Mrs. Rolland said, laughing. I grinned at her through the food in my mouth, and pretended to swallow the stuff down (4).

(4) As if I'd _actually_ eat anything from this world. The last time I'd tried to eat something from earth, my essence had been in extreme pain for _weeks_. No, I'd just changed Neville's anatomy a little bit, so I could store the food in my 'mouth,' until no one was looking and I could spit it back out.

"Ready to go, Neville?" Rolland asked, extending his hand to me. I smiled at him and grabbed his proffered hand tightly.

"Yes! Puppy Squad! Puppy Squad! Go, go go!" I squealed, as the real Neville might have if he were here.

The man took me inside to a dark theatre, Mrs. Rolland leading the way. We found our seats up in the front and sat down, waiting for the movie to start.

Everything went as expected. I pretended to enjoy the idiotic movie, Rolland fell asleep during the intro, Mrs. Rolland left for the bathroom during the first song and never came back for a while, and someone tried to kidnap me by the second song. When I felt hands grab my ankles, I sighed in relief. I'd been starting to think it'd take a couple of more insufferable days with the Rollands before I got kidnapped.

Hands covered my mouth, and the scent of some sweet-smelling gas filled my nose. Guessing that I was supposed to be knocked out by this, I went limp. I'd guessed right, apparently, because I felt myself being lifted up by strong arms soon afterwards.

I cracked open my eye a little, and saw someone sitting down in my seat, looking exactly the same as the boy who'd entered the theater with the Rollands, his awe-filled eyes watching the Puppy Squad race to rescue a civilian. I hid a grin. Stupid foliot. Neville was the type of boy who'd cry at this part of the movie. Clearly, these kidnappers weren't doing their homework before they dove in to do their jobs.

Well, it didn't matter to me. The stupider these kidnappers were, the more easily I could escape from them.

I felt a soft coat thrown on me as my face was pressed close to some woman's shoulder, probably to make it look like I'd fallen asleep. I felt the human's breath on my arm, and smiled. I'd been worried that the actual kidnapping might be taking place by the hand of powerful spirits, but it seems like my worries were for naught. In that case, these idiots would probably be in jail before dawn.

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 **Nathaniel's POV**

Watching the demon so easily pass for an innocent child made me nervous. Bartimaeus's acting was amazing, and it made me realize yet again why I shouldn't be taking this djinni lightly. After I'd forced him to live on earth for a year without rest, the demon had been starting to grow weary and had spoken empty threats to me on a regular basis. Honestly, I'd come to grow tired of him. He'd been a spirit worthy of respect and fear when I'd first summoned him, but had recently started to look like a sorry excuse for a djinni.

Now I had to wonder at what lies this demon had been spouting while strutting around me with that human-like guise of his.

Suddenly, the djinni looked up at the imp who was scrying for me, and for a moment, it seemed as if he'd heard my thoughts. I dismissed the notion quickly enough, feeling like an idiot.

That didn't matter right now. The demon was under my control, and he was carrying out his charge as I'd ordered him to.

And then the kidnapping happened. As I saw Bartimaeus being gently carried off by a woman as if he were her child, I grinned. There had been a small chance that I was wrong after all, but it was a relief to see that that wasn't the case. It was time to let my plan unfold.

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 **Question: was there _really_ a point in adding in Nathaniel's perspective at the end?**

 **No, I realized there was not soon enough.**

 **But, no matter.**

 **I thought Bartimaeus was starting to look like a weak joke in my fanfics, so I wanted Nathaniel to acknowledge Bartimaeus a little bit.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	3. Trapped

I stayed still through the horrendous car ride, even with all the iron and other metal surrounding my essence. I kept quiet as I was jostled and taken into a dreary-looking building in a dark and shady neighborhood. I still pretended to be knocked out when my captor took me down a long flight of steps to a small space lit only by bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

When the human woman threw me into a room full of bawling children, I drew the line.

I twisted out of her grasp and transformed into a three-headed dragon, all glittering golden scales and roaring fire (1).

(1) Too much? Yeah, I didn't think so either.

The woman, for her part, screamed and ran for her life. I paused, wondering whether I should chase after her, but since Natty boy hadn't really been clear on what I should do after I found the children, I decided to let her go. Why not? She was Nat's headache to deal with, not mine.

I turned to the children, who were now all hush-hush, staring at my form with wide eyes. When my gaze turned on them, some of them started whimpering. I hurried to transform into Ptolemy, before the little whelps started crying (2).

(2) Although I do enjoy giving the occasional magician a scare, scaring children gives me no pleasure. Why, you ask? Because it's absolutely beneath me. A djinni of my level can't be seen doing what imps and foliots take particular joy in. Also, herding these kids to safety would become a lot more difficult if they started screaming and fainting.

"Okay, I know this will come as a shock to all of you," I start, in my most soothing tone. "But I'm one of the good guys. I'm going to save you all."

The children seem to still be getting over the fact that I'd done multiple transformations in front of their eyes, though one of the kids- ugh, it's Lily Hollow- starts punching me repeatedly, threatening to have her mother sue me if I didn't get take her home _right now_.

I push her away dismissively, and look around at the room we're being held in. There are about seven kids in here, accounting for all the children missing from their homes.

Okay, I guess this case has been solved.

Oh, if only it ended there.

I'm innocently throwing a detonation at the open doorway, you know, to widen the gap so I don't have to shove seven kids through a narrow space, when the detonation bounces back at me.

Of course, I use my amazing speed and quick instincts to get out of the way. Ptolemy's form may or may not be missing an arm now, but I'm working on fixing that.

This obviously gets the children bawling again, and earns a tired sigh from me.

I walk to the doorway, try to step through, and unfortunately, find to my surprise that there's a Seal placed on it. Well. So that means no spirits- like _moi_ \- would be escaping this room any time soon. The children, however, were free to go. If they found their ways out of the building, my charge would technically be complete and I would be... still trapped down here, because that bratty master of mine had chained me to this world, but I'd be free of any charge.

Sounded like a good plan in my head.

"Hey, kids!" I exclaim, doing my best to smile warmly at them all. "It's time to get you all to safety! Lily, you're in charge since you're the oldest- no, don't argue with me. You'll lead these kids up these stairs, take a right, and leave through the doorway there to the main street."

"Didn't you say _you_ were going to save us all?" Lily asks, ever the obnoxious teenage girl.

"Yeees," I say, drawing out the word as I struggle to keep smiling. "But you see, I'm starting to get hungry, and all of you look tasty."

Lily's eyes widen at the implications of my threat, and she barrels through the door at top speed. I look at the other kids.

"Now, who's next?" I ask, not-so-subtly elongating my mouth to reveal rows of sharp, pointy, teeth.

The children scream, and follow Lily out the door.

I look after them, wondering if they actually listened to my directions earlier.

"Remember to take the hallway on the right!" I shout, hoping at least one of them isn't driven so senseless by fear that my words went completely over their heads.

I wait, for a minute, then two. But I don't feel the hold on my charge disappearing.

I groan, and sit down to regret my life decisions. I should've just let Nat die once. Just _once_. Then I wouldn't be going through all of this, relying on a thirteen year-old girl-

Wait. Something in my essence shifts, and I feel considerably less constricted than I had before. They made it out! The kids made it out of the building!

"Hello, Bartimaeus."

I stop in my middle of my rejoicing, and turn to the sound of my name.

A stout, old man stands just outside the door, safely behind the Seal.

I flick through the Planes, and stop when I notice the man's form on the Sixth one.

"Faquarl," I say, but the word sounds strangely strangled when I hear my voice say it.

Faquarl smiles that horrible, horrible, creepy smile of his that's become unpleasantly familiar over the centuries.

 **0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

 **I have no idea what I'm writing!**

 **I'm just winging it!**

 **But, wow, writing Bartimeaus is so much more fun than spending hours re-reading old fanfic (well, not completely, but yeah)**

 **I hope you all liked this chapter! (Please tell me if I'm not doing Bartimaeus's character justice)**


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